Nightly Killers
by allisonwonderland1496
Summary: It's her first time on the job. What her name is, that's your choice, she couldn't care less. But then again... that's probably the least of her problems...


Dear god it was dreadfully hot in here.

Even with the blasted fan breathing in my face, sweat pours heavily to the damp floor and the air is extremely suffocating. Never in my years have I experienced such a terrible heat as this. Hopefully the pay would certainly be worth it.

"Hello, hello?"

Practically pressed up against the electronic cooling device, I slowly peeled my eyes open to the crackling sounds of a voicemail. Had I turned on the thing? It was hard to remember in this desert of an office.

At least, I was told it was an office. To me, a room had never looked so terribly...gloomy. Was that the correct term? Depressing? It was unbelievably hot.

"Uh, well if you're hearing this, then chances are you've made a very poor career choice."

The voice is staticky and hard to make out, but the message he relays is clear enough. Based on the calm way he points this out, I can only assume he's trying to lighten up the mood. Bizarre way of doing so. I'd been here no longer than ten minutes and the place already gave me the creeps. I'd have to agree with his friendly little joke. Poor choice in career indeed.

I take a quick gander around the small, confined space, occasionally letting the man on the phone's words sink into my head. Really I have no interest in listening to such a droning voice going on and on about the safeties and securities of the night shift here because - I mean - how hard could it be? A security guard from midnight to six a.m. at a children's arcade/pizzaria, all I really needed to do was watch over the animatronics and it wasn't as if they were going to wander all over the place like some ghosts. Although, taking a closer look at the poster of the singing crew is a bit unsettling.

"...focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?"

Yes. Okay. Getting on through the first week of sitting at a desk for six hours doing my crosswords. Fun. Should be a walk in the park.

I sigh, placing my hand along the bulky picture of - gosh... I couldn't for the life... Who was this again? The main animal freak of the bunch. Berry the bear? Larry? Damn. Maybe I should have paid some attention to the job description.

Oh what did it matter? The stupid thing was hideous. That's all I really cared to note. The too large head, the freakishly hollow eyes that seemed to peer into my soul the longer I looked at it, and the atrocious teeth of the thing, too square and too white to be anything but ugly on the giant doll.

The other two weren't the prettiest of the trio either.

"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun..."

Freddy! That's the name of blocky number one. And now as I stand here staring at this poster for no apparent reason, I recall the other two to be Bonnie the Bunny and Chicka the Chicken.

No wait. Or a duck. It looked like a duck. And a chicken.

Whatever.

"Fazebear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person..."

"Oh boy..." I whistle to myself, peeling away from the disturbing image and heading towards the cameras. As I plop down onto the seat before the monitor, I notice I can only focus on one area at a time, the first being the stage itself. Sure enough, the crew is all together in a pack, still and creepy as ever.

And kids liked these things? Odd.

Lazily I give the controls a random click, testing the thing. The process is simple enough. Press a specific button for a specific room, look through the eerie lens, select another, repeat. Easy. This would be a breeze. Heck, maybe I'd actually be able to finish my college reports on time.

I yawn, leaning the chair back, unable to resist the occasional twist and turn of the rolling furniture. Perhaps I'd even get some extra nap time in here.

"Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too."

Cute. The guy was a real jest. Come to think of it, the girls - and Freddy boy - were a bit filthy. No cleaning what-so-ever? It was almost enough to pity the trio. Maybe I'd hose them down out back.

Yeah right. As if I'd actually touch one of those things. They were probably filled to the brim with diseases and such.

I click to observe the dining area, taking in the numerous party hats with a small smile. It was to be expected as this was a children's place, after all. The only main trigger to forgetting was the fact there was this extremely unsettling sea of black pouring along in the background. I had the distinct impression of someone watching me. I almost expected something to jump at the screen.

With a shudder, I check out camera 2A, the west hall. It's yet another room pulsing with a worrisome pitch blackness that send chills down my spine. Thank goodness for what little energy the place conserved for this tiny office. If I'd been required to go exploring into such a creepy atmosphere... surely I'd go mad. The messy clump of children drawing don't even seem to help. In fact, they only contribute to the eeriness of the hallway.

I click 2B. This view was more of an improvement from the previous dark pits of every parent's hell, but there was another poster. This one was a main focus of Freddy, and yeesh. There should be a limit to how horrifyingly disturbing a character could be. What looked to be cords or streamers - for why would cords be hung around so casually in a children's place of fun? - made the illusion of something slimy trickling down the walls. Almost a reddish color. Almost like...

Shaking my head of the thought, I roll back to the opposite door leading to the east hallway. It's impossible to see through. Absurdly I wonder if this could act like a gateway to another dimension. A shortcut to the underworld where the unemployed wander about to slowly wither away into absolute nothingness. I chuckle at the thought, depressing as it may seem.

Beside the doorway are two buttons. To my convenience, their functions are easily readable by corresponding labels. Looking back to the opposite side of the room, I can see a mirror reflection of the controls, both saying "light" and "door". When I swivel back to the nearest set of buttons, I make sure to test the thing. Sure enough, when I hit light, the light comes crinkling to life, sputtering bursts of irritating hums and flickering bugs. I shut it off and try for the door command nearly jolting to the floor at the heavy thud of the door slamming downwards.

Downwards. What the hell was this? Some sort of bomb shelter?

I place a hand to my racing heart and let out another laugh. With another hasty jab, the door soars back into the ceiling.

The job only seemed to get better and better.

"So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wa..."

I ignore the message, tredding back over to the monitor, clicking away through the cameras and settling on what was written as "pirate cove". All that's shown is a giant curve of a purple curtain with a sign in front reading "Sorry! Out of order".

Pirate Cove... Pirate Cove...

There was something really spooky about this one. What exactly was lurking behind that fabric? Another stage? There were only three of the dolls here, weren't there? At least, that's what all the newspaper articles I'd come across seemed to show.

I had a stomach churning desire to skip on lingering on this image too long. Swallowing dryly, I move along.

"...walk around during the day too."

Freezing at the view of the restrooms, I snap my head over to the phone, listening for more. Was he talking about me? Was I going to come in during the day too? Ridiculous. What was he saying?

I should have listened. It wasn't my most notable talent.

"But then there was the Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?"

What the hell?

"Uh, now concerning your safety..."

My safety?

"...only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours..."

What the hell was he saying? Why was I just now hearing this? What sort of nonsense-?

"...won't recognize you as a person. They'll probably try to... forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit."

I blinked dumbfoundedly at the machine, trying to comprehend the gibberish this guy was spewing. Joke or not, this was becoming irritatingly uncomfortable, fast.

Looking over at the poster, I imagine myself actually being pushed into that hideous bulky outfit of a monstrosity. Then I violently shake my head and rub my temple, cursing for thinking of such a stupid stunt. Why would I consider getting into one of those? No, why would this guy be telling me I'd actually be forced into one of those by... well... those.

"Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death..."

"What the hell?" I demand aloud, straightening and frantically searching for the camera to the stage. When I find it, seeing the three amigos hanging together as they were supposed to, I feel silly and curse one more. What was I expecting? Did I actually buy into what this guy was saying?

"Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh."

What?!

This was sick. This was absolutely unacceptable. When I came across the owner after this shift, I was sure to leave one hell of a word for that disgusting bastard. What was this? A prank on the newby? Was he trying to get me to quit?

"Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night."

The phone clicked silent. Staring at the monitor, I find a percentage I'd missed before. It reads 77%. That must be the battery power. Had I really used that much already?

The time reads 12:34. I hadn't even hit the first hour.

Suddenly I hear the sounds of metal clashing against one another. Like silverware. The Kitchen.

Slowly I peek over at the doorway leading to the west, but stop halfway by something flickering in my vision.

I leap to my feet and lean foward against the screen, speechless. It's still focused on camera 1A, the show stage.

Bonnie the Bunny is gone.


End file.
